


Start Over

by Ptolemia



Category: Borderlands
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Post Game, august and sasha are my darling children... i just want them to be happy..........
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ptolemia/pseuds/Ptolemia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Rhys and Fiona get back from wherever the hell the Vault dumped them, everyone seems to be convinced that this is the happy ending they've all been waiting for. Sasha, however, is determined for there to also be a new beginning, and August might be more easily persuaded than he seems...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start Over

**Author's Note:**

> august/sasha is honestly the most lovely and wonderful ship and i?? literally don't???? know why there isnt more fic??? so i am PUTTING THE WORLD TO RIGHTS
> 
> also im so so here for overly suspicious fiona and gortys being a cutie
> 
> and RHYS AND SASHA FRIENDSHIP,,, my darlings,,,,,,, my beautiful brotp,,,,,,,,,,,,,
> 
> enjoy! ^_^

Sasha shoves her way past yet another huddle of excitable ex-Hyperion bandit types, glaring when one of them wishes her a good afternoon. She's glad, of course, that Rhys and Fiona have turned up alive – really glad, very happy, but then, she never doubted they would. The pair of them are far too hardy to let a little thing like teleporting Vault magic get in their way. So she's glad, yes, but she also has some unfinished business to be dealing with, and all these happy people are getting in her goddamn way.

“Where the hell is he?” she grumbles, mostly to herself. Ok, well, only to herself, but she doesn't want to admit that, because talking to yourself tends to look a little-

 

“Hey Sasha,” chirps Rhys, grabbing her shoulder as she barrels past him, “Going somewhere?”

She groans. “Yes! Kinda in a rush, actually, so-”

“Where are you off to? You're gonna miss the party!”

“Look, Rhys, I really don't care. I need to find... somebody.”

He cocks his head, and fixes her with an unusually perceptive stare. “August?”

“No!”

He narrows his eyes.

“Ok, well... yes. But it's none of your business. Unless you've seen him. Have you?”

He shakes his head. “No, but Yvette mentioned that he was thinking of heading back home today.”

Sasha groans. “Argh, this is awful. I'll never find him in this damn crowd.”

Rhys hums. “Yeah, that kinda sucks.”

“Just a bit. Urgh, I'm too short to see shit with all these people pissing about. You see anything from up there, Rhys?”

He squints around. “Nope. I mean, I'm tall, but not _that_... wait.”

“What?”

“You want to sit up on my shoulders?” Rhys makes a weird dorky hand gesture, and lowers his voice. “By our powers combined-” he begins.

“What are you doing,” says Sasha, flatly.

“Did you not watch Holojack Dance Fusion Robots when you were a kid?”

“No.”

“Wow. Reference wasted. Where's Vaughn when I need him... anyway, look,” he says, crouching down, “Get on my shoulders. We're gonna find him.”

Sasha eyes him skeptically. “You sure you're strong enough for this?”

“Yes! Well. Maybe. Lets find out. We can go on this journey of discovery together.”

“Ok, well, try not to die,” she says, hopping up onto his shoulders.

 

Rhys straightens up, with some difficulty. “Hey, not so bad,” he wheezes. “Yeah, I can totally do this.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure you can. Right, turn round, I'm gonna see if I can see- oh, crap, here comes Fiona.”

“Well Sasha, are you ready to be loudly accused of being a couple for no reason other than that we're in the same general area and not yelling at each other?”

“So ready, Rhys. So ready.”

Rhys sighs.

Sasha straightens up as Fiona approaches. “Uh, hey Fi! How's it going?”

“What exactly are you two doing?” says Fiona, narrowing her eyes.

“We're having sex,” says Sasha, with a winning grin.

“Oooh, Sasha, ooh,” deadpans Rhys. “Wow. Mmm. Something about boobs.”

Fiona frowns. “I'm serious. Why are you-”

“I just really had to get Rhys' head between my legs, like, right now. You know how it is.”

Rhys snorts. “Yeah, she just came up to me like 'Rhys I need to get on top of you' and... well, what was I supposed to say to that?”

Fiona glares. “Oh, sure, sure, funny stuff. I've got my eye on you, that's all I'm saying. And if you think-”

 

She cuts herself off as Gortys comes trotting up to her. “Hi Fiona! Wow, you look really cross.”

“I have no idea what makes you think that,” says Fiona, grinding her teeth.

“Well, I think it's a combination of your angry stare and the fact that you've drawn your gun!”

Fiona looks down at her hand. “Oh, so I have. Oops.”

Rhys chuckles nervously. “That's a joke, right, Fiona? You wouldn't actually-”

“Oh, hi Rhys!” chirps Gortys, rolling over toward him, “Oh, wow, look at Sasha up there! Hello!”

Sasha waves. “Hey Gortys, how's it going?”

“It's going great! Are you enjoying being tall?”

“It's pretty neat, yeah.”

“I know! Hey, you guys, you know what this reminds me of? Rhys and Sasha are like all the different parts of me which go together to make me super tall! Like, Sasha is the smart bit that talks and stuff, and Rhys is the legs! Remember when I had big legs? Man, I miss them, sometimes.”

“I'm not- I'm not the _legs_ ,” says Rhys, “I have so many other qualities!”

Fiona snorts. “Like what?”

“Like...uh... my winning personality.”

 

There's a long silence, and then Gortys turns to Fiona, and says – in a very loud stage-whisper - “Is somebody going to tell him, or what?”

Fiona, barely able to contain her laughter, whispers back, “No, it's fine, he doesn't need to know that he's a huge dweeb with no social skills to speak of.”

“Oh, ok, phew! Because I thought I was gonna have to explain it to him, and then he might cry and I'd feel really bad.”

Rhys tries not to react as Sasha laughs so hard she almost knocks herself off his shoulders. “Oh my god, Rhys, this is without a doubt the greatest day of my life.”

Rhys rolls his eyes. “Fine, great, whatever you say, Little Miss Brains-Of-The-Outfit. Do you want help finding August, or shall I dump you back on the floor? Because the second option is looking real tempting right now.”

“Oh, crap, yeah, we should get going if we're gonna find him, actually. Fiona, Gortys, me and Rhys have some business to attend to, so we gotta scram, but-”

Fiona narrows her eyes. “What kind of 'business', Sash?”

“Um, sex, duh. Me and Rhys are going to go off and have wild, wild sex, just to wind you up.” She beams down at Fiona, and then taps Rhys on the shoulder. “Alright, Rhys, head that way, I think I saw him over there earlier today...”

Rhys dutifully heads off in the direction Sasha's pointing, winking at Fiona as he goes past. “Have a nice day, Fi. I know I will.”

She growls at him. As he heads past her he distinctly hears Gortys saying, “Hey, Fiona, what's sex?”

“Shit. Right. Uh, well, see,” begins Fiona, “When... when two people really like each other they, uh, they do a special hug...”

 

And then they're out of hearing distance.

“I almost feel bad for her,” muses Sasha.

“Yeah, well, I don't,” says Rhys.

“C'mon, she's not that bad. The rampant suspicion is kinda funny, if you ask me.”

“Oh, that's easy for you to say... she's not planning to shoot _you_.”

“Touché.”

“You see any sign of August from up there?”

Sasha shades her eyes against the sun, squinting into the distance. “Uh, maybe? That might be... no, false alarm. Just looked a bit like him from behind. I hope he hasn't left already.”

Rhys pats her leg. “Hey, don't worry about it. I bet you he's just around the corner somewhere, we'll find him.”

“Yeah, and when we do... what? Like, I really screwed him over. He probably doesn't even want to talk to me, let alone anything else.”

“I'm pretty sure we've all screwed each other over at some point, Sash. And now look at us! I mean, even Fiona is pretty decent to me when she's not, y'know, threatening to murder me.”

She sighs. “I guess. I dunno. He took it really personally. Which is fair, I guess. I just wish...”

“I know. I know. You're gonna fix it, though.”

“I guess.” She doesn't sound very convinced.

 

They traipse on in silence for a little while, making slow progress through the crowds.

Sasha sighs. “Why are there so many people, anyway?”

Rhys shrugs, almost knocking her off his shoulders in the process.

“Watch it, jerk!”

“Sorry,” he says, “Sorry, didn't think that through.”

“Yup, that sounds like you.”

“Hey, you're hurting my feelings, Sash. Um, the crowds have something to do with Vaughn, I think... him and Yvette organised some kind of 'we're not dead' party once me and Fiona got back from the Vault and it seems to have... snowballed. A little.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Urgh, I'll never find him in all this- oh wait, Rhys, turn round!”

“You see him?”

“Yeah, right over there! Looks like he's packing his car, though. Maybe we should leave it.”

“Nuh-uh. You're going over there, and you're going to talk to him.”

“I-”

“No arguments!”

“Well, you better move fast. I think he's about to get into the car. He's gonna leave...”

“Sasha,” says Rhys, attempting to pick up the pace and wheezing slightly, “you overestimate my physical fitness. I can move, just about, but _fast_ is asking a bit much.”

Sasha groans. “Oh my god, you complete waste of space. Let me down, then. I know where he is now, I'll get over there quicker than you will.”

 

Rhys crouches, letting her scramble down off his back. “Hey,” he says, “You're gonna kill it, ok?”

“I'm gonna try my best.”

“Hey, do I have to give you a pep talk? Because-”

“Uh, please don't. You're really bad at it.”

“What?”

She slings her arms round him. “It's fine, we all love you even though you're bad at everything.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” she chirps, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and then diving off through the crowds toward August.

 

It takes her longer than she anticipate to push her way through all the people milling around, and by the time she reaches August he's loaded all his luggage into the car and is opening the door to step inside. Sasha pauses, for a moment, some internal part of her having a little freak-out because what kind of crappy rom-com nonsense even _is_ this? Then she takes a deep breath and calls out,

“Hey, August, wait!”

He turns round, hand on the door handle, and for a split second he grins at her, the same old lopsided grin she used to see every day. It's achingly familiar and distant all at once, and it's gone as quick as it appeared, his face setting into a closed-off frown. Sasha feels her stomach churn at that, but she steels herself. The grin had happened, which meant... something. Hopefully.

“Hey,” she says, leaning up against the car and trying her best to look nonchalant. “How's it going?”

“Get off my car,” he grunts.

“It's a nice day, huh? Really, uh,” she glances up at the sky, which is unusually gloomy. It looks like a dust storm is blowing in, “Really, y'know. A great. Day.”

“Sasha. Get off my damn car. I've gotta go.”

“What, and miss the party?”

August sighs. “Look, I don't know what you're trying to do, but can you just stop?”

“August...”

“Haven't you done enough? Just leave me be, alright.”

Sasha opens her mouth, witty comeback on the tip of her tongue. Whatever it was, it fades away under August's stare. He just looks so sad, and lonely, and it _hurts_.

He sighs. “Don't look at me like that, Sash. You know what you-” he shakes his head. “Oh, forget it. Whatever.”

“I'm sorry,” she blurts. “August, please, I'm-”

“Sorry? Wow, yeah, changes everything. Now get the hell away from my car and let me leave this fucking shithole.”

“August, I-”

“Don't do this.”

“August-”

“Sasha, please, can you just-”

“I love you.”

 

August doesn't meet her gaze. His hand clenches on the door handle, then unclenches. “You're a fucking dick, Sasha,” he grunts. And then he reaches his hand out and bundles her into a hug.

Sasha's pressed up against his chest so tight her ribs are being crushed, but somehow, strange as it seems, it feels like she can breathe for the first time in months. “I'm sorry,” she mumbles, “I'm so, so, so sorry August I-”

He snorts. “Dunno why you keep saying that.”

“Because it's true, dumbass.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Listen, I know you have no reason to trust me, but-”

“Yeah,” he says, stepping away from her and folding his arms before she can reach out to take his hand. “Yeah, I really don't. I mean, last I spoke to you you seemed pretty keen to make it clear that you didn't give a shit, so. Interesting change of tune. I mean, what do you want this time, huh?”

“Nothing, August!”

“Nothing? Great, then I'm going to get in the car, and drive home, and you can... do whatever it is you do nowadays. Suck up to the next idiot you're going to steal shit from.” He sighs, and opens up the car door, shaking Sasha off his arm when she tries to stop him getting in. “Move your hand,” he says, “I don't want to slam the door on your fingers, alright?”

 

“Listen,” she says, gritting her teeth and clinging on to the door as he tries to peel her hands away from the metal. “Listen, you know what's changed since we last spoke?”

“When you dumped me.”

“When I- right, yeah, look, that was a mistake! I was angry, alright, I didn't- I didn't think it through.”

“Really? 'Cause you've been pretty calculated throughout this whole thing, as far as I can tell.”

“Alright, and I was, at the start! I just wanted to screw you over and I'm sorry. I didn't- it changed. I changed. I – August, give me two minutes, please, hear me out.”

He grunts. “Alright. What?”

“I was dying, August, ok. I thought I was dying and the last thing I could think about was how much I screwed things up with you and how much I wished I could... I don't know. Start over.”

“Uh-huh?”

“I just... shit, August, I don't want to have that same thought again in fifty years or whenever I actually...” she sighs, and removes her hands from the car door. “No, I'm sorry. I get it. You can't trust me and I don't blame you. I just. Had to try. Y'know?”

 

The car door slams shut, and Sasha stares down at her feet, balling her hand into a fist and furiously willing herself not to cry with the last vague remnants of dignity she possesses. She shouldn't have expected anything else, probably, but her cheeks burn with the embarrassment of having been so... honest. And then this. She deserves it, she doesn't doubt she deserves it, but it still stings.

And then August rolls the window down, and says. “Alright, you getting in the car or what?”

She looks up at him and blinks, confused. “Wait, you-”

He shrugs. “There's a nice viewpoint near here. Good spot for shooting rakks. I've got a couple guns in the back, thought you might want to... Well, I dunno. Call it a date.”

Sasha practically leaps over the hood of the car in her rush to scramble into the passenger seat.

August revvs the car up, and when she reaches out her hand to him, he takes it. “Start over?”

She nods. “Start over.”

 

He smiles, vague and faint and just an echo of what it used to be, but she'll take it. It has... potential. Like a new beginning. They drive off to the viewpoint, and they stay holding hands the whole way there.

 


End file.
